


better brother, better son

by lineofpepsi



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anti is an older fallen, Harsh Language, M/M, Mark is a newly fallen, Nongraphic description of murder, fallen angel AU, mark/anti if you want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lineofpepsi/pseuds/lineofpepsi
Summary: Mark is having trouble. Anti helps him out.





	better brother, better son

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has already been done before, but this AU popped into my head late at night and I had to write it. I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> title from polarize by twentyone pilots

I found him on the roof, again. For the fourth time this week. On the third day of the week. 

He couldn’t ever sleep through the night anymore. He couldn’t sleep at all anymore. It was concerning.

He was never this… fucked up. He was always optimistic, always smiling, always joking. He could fill an entire room with his radiance, just by walking through the goddamn door. 

Now… 

He’s an entirely different person. 

“Go away, Anti.” His voice is rough. Probably from crying.

I didn’t listen to his command. I got closer, approaching him from behind. He was wearing one of my long-sleeve shirts. He never liked to wear those before. He usually preferred tank tops. 

“Do you need anything, Mark?” I ask, like I always do. 

“No,” He replies, like he always does. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” 

“Can I sit?” 

A pause. Then, “sure.” 

That’s a new answer. I don’t waste my opportunity. I sit right next to him, making sure to keep a bit of space but not too much between us. 

He likes to sit up on the roof of my house, and look out at the city in the distance. I would’ve liked to live much closer to the city, but since my own fall, the noises of human civilization have bothered me a bit too much to live in the center of it all. But the outskirts - the suburbs, I believe mortals call it - are nice too. 

Mark has a bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his hands, like usual. If I’m lucky, I can pry it away from him with minor scratches or burns. I try not to let him drink too much, especially since his metabolism or whatever is very different now. It’s just one more thing he’ll have to get used too. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I count every second, wondering how tonight will go. It’s already veered off the normal path of Mark drinking until he can’t talk - usually about eight or so full bottles of whiskey - and then he passes out on the couch instead of his bed. 

At some point, Mark goes as far as to offer me the bottle. I take it with a small smile, knowing that he’s probably just being courteous. 

I take small sips, enjoying the taste more than the effects of the alcohol. Even cheap whiskey tastes nice, to me at least. 

“Does it get easier?” Mark asks eventually, voice low and gaze pointed at the city in the distance.

The city does look very pretty at night. 

“Yeah,” I reply. “But it can take a while.” It did for me, but now, I’m open as hell about it. It still hurts, I guess; when I’m in my low moments, my slumps or whatever, it’s another reason why I’m a general fuck-up. 

But the rest of the time, I try to wear it like a badge of honor. It doesn’t always work, but I try. 

“What about your brothers?” Mark asks. 

At that, I hesitate. I haven’t really thought about them in a while. 

“Long story short, we all went our separate ways when we fell,” I tell him. “I guess I should try and find ‘em, huh?” 

“You don’t even know where they are?” Mark sounds more than shocked, almost angry. “They were your fucking brothers, and you don’t know where they are?” 

“They were angry when we all fell,” I say, trying not to sound defensive and failing miserably. “They went to their own corners of the planet, set on forgetting that any of us ever existed.” 

I had stayed where we all fell. The City of Angels. What a stupid fucking name. 

“You haven’t spoken to them since you fell?” 

“No.” 

“Haven’t you been here for hundreds of years?” 

“Three hundred and eighty-four in three months.” I have our anniversary memorized. One of the more morbid things in my life, I guess. I wonder if they remember it too. I guess it isn’t really something you easily forget. 

“I wanted to be better than…” Mark thinks for a moment, then just half-heartedly gestures around himself. “This.” 

“Is being a fallen really that glamorous to you?” I can’t keep the biting sarcasm out of my voice. I don’t really want to either. 

“You know what I mean. No one is born wanting to fall.” 

“You’re right.” I hand the whiskey back to him. He sounds like he needs it. 

He chugs the rest of the bottle in one go. If he were mortal, it would be fairly impressive. But he isn’t. He’s a fallen angel. 

“You seem so at peace with this shit,” Mark says. “It’s weird.” 

I furrow my brows at that, but don’t look away from the city. “How do you mean?” 

“They always reminded us that there’s a line between good and bad,” Mark hiccups once. “Angels and demons, light and dark, all that shit. Very distinct lines separating the two, you know?” 

“Yeah, I remember.” I don’t want to remember. 

“But you, you’re like ‘fuck that, I make my own damn line’ and you’re right in the middle!” 

“Is that bad?” 

“I don’t know.” Mark flops onto his back, landing roughly on the roof but not even blinking. “I wanna keep the lines separated, Anti. I need to know where I stand amongst everything. You gotta help me polarize the good and bad stuff.” 

“What’s the point?” I sneer, gently laying back onto my elbow so I can face Mark properly. “Why bother labeling yourself as bad or good?” 

Mark keeps his eyes on the stars - the whole eight you can see. Humans and their light pollution really messed that up. “If you don’t, it’s all just deny, deny, denial. I don’t like denial.” 

“I wouldn’t call it denial,” I shake my head, shifting so I’m resting on my back, like Mark. “I would call it acceptance. We’re off the scale, we don’t matter, we can do whatever we want and live our goddamn lives.” 

I notice Mark flinching when I said goddamn. Hopefully he'll get over that. 

“But what are we?” 

“Fallen.”

Mark grimaces. “But are we good or bad?” 

“Did you not hear what I literally just said?” 

“Look, you might be okay with no labels and living your life as an amorphous blob of nothing, but I’m not! I need structure, I need reasons!” Mark looks dangerously close to crying at this point. 

I sit up quickly, holding up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Do you wanna talk it through again?”

Mark thinks for a moment, and then nods. 

I take a deep breath, and he mimics me. 

“Why did you fall?” 

“You know why.” 

“Mark.” 

He takes another deep breath. “I killed three men.” 

“Why did you kill those three men?”  
“They would’ve killed more people.” 

“What kind of people?” 

“Kids. Families.” 

“How many?” 

“A lot.” 

“So, by killing three men, you saved a metric fuck-ton of families.” 

“Angels aren’t supposed to kill people.”

I roll my eyes. “You still saved a lot of lives. I’d say that makes you a damn good person.” 

Mark looks at me with wide eyes. “Are you sure?” 

I nod. “More than anything.” 

He looks away, lips pressed together in discontent. He doesn’t believe me. 

“Mark, things aren’t always set in stone. I know you like them to be, and the guys upstairs certainly try and make them, but gray areas dominate everything. I’ve been on Earth for a long time, and I’ve been alive for even longer; I’ve just about seen it all, and I can say without a doubt, that you are one of the best goddamn people I’ve ever known.” 

Neither of us spoke for a moment after that. Mark kept looking at the stars, while I stare at the city. 

Just as I was about to head on inside, I feel a very warm hand covering my own, lightly squeezing. 

“Thank you,” Mark whispers. 

I smile, just a little bit. “You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it, please leave comments and kudos, they go a long way!


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